


To Kill a God

by Katzenjammers



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, F/F, Lets be real i just wanted to write Jaina with tattoos, So much angst, Theres a glimmer of hope though its open to interpretation, They both deserve to rest but I won't let them, okay they got their happy ending i gave in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-16 04:05:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18683779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzenjammers/pseuds/Katzenjammers
Summary: A void-corrupted Jaina sits alone in a cell in the middle of The Violet Hold. Her wife goes to visit her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Angst, delicious angst. Also I just am super on board with idea of Jaina having tattoos.

She knew this place. She’d been here before, in another life.

 

_A life full of pain, a lonely life- you have no need for pain anymore for we shall ease your suffering and you will never be alone, not with us. It’s time to let it go._

Her life _had_ been full of pain. She could remember the ache in her chest, the deep splintering wound that refused to heal.

 

_We shall fill the crater in your chest. You were betrayed- over and over but we will never leave you._

She glanced down at her arms; they were bare- purple tattoos that seemed to pulse with unholy life twisted around them, like vines choking a tree.

 

_Something approaches, something wicked- you must not listen to its lies._

Voices, muted by the force field around her echoed around the empty stone hall and she shifted her eyes to focus on two figures, hazy and warped.

 

“Are you sure this is wise to do this? It is doubtful if there is much left of her.” The vision swam before her eyes; she knew that voice- the greying hair- the robes.

 

“I need to see that for myself.” The second voice sounded… off, ethereal and broken. She knew that sound as well.

 

_…Unnatural, an abomination against the very fabric of reality, it must not be allowed to exist._

The whispers continued to hiss as the first figure drew back to let the second one approach. The warping lessened as it drew closer until it stood before her, inches away from the barrier that separated her from freedom. Yes, that was it- she was in a cell. 

 

_You are on the wrong side- it should be her that’s in here, a danger to everything that must be ended this instant._

 

“Jaina?” The ethereal voice questioned and she tilted her head in confusion. That had been her name hadn’t it?

 

_You have no need for such names, they hold you down to a life you no longer need- we can fashion you a much more powerful title._

With the soft clink of metal and creak of leather, the figure kneeled with the caution and grace of a wild cat. Clad in imposing armour and setting a formidable looking bow in front of her, she pulled back her hood and placed a hand on the barrier, the arcane wall that had smarted and sparked whenever she'd touched it merely flowed around their fingers like the spray of a waterfall. She knew that face, knew it with every fabric of her being and she rose to her feet, her body shakily taking a step forward. Her muscles remembered, even if her mind did not.

 

“Jaina? Can you hear me? Have they hurt you in any way?”

 

She took a step further even as the voices screamed at her to get away.

 

“I know you.” Her voice sounded warped, twisted.

 

“That you do.” The figure allowed a soft smile.

 

“They know you too.”

 

The smile faded.

 

“I’m aware.”

 

Such delicate features, twisted into a stoic, expressionless face. An elf, but at the same time…not- red eyes and ashen skin, trails of tears burnt into the flesh. She knew this- knew what that face felt like cradled in her hands.

 

_It lies with its illusions. You were always alone._

“Was I alone?” Jaina questioned to both the whispers and the figure.

 

“No.” Her voice cut through the shrieks of denial as the whispers fought for her attention. “You were never alone.”

 

Jaina closed her eyes and took another step, hesitant and slow. The voices grew frenzied in their intensity and something akin to panic dug its tenacious claws in her chest.

 

“Have you come to kill me?”

 

The figure laughed softly but pain burned within the embers that were her eyes.

 

“I don’t think I’d be very much inclined to kill my wife.”

 

Wife. Jaina found she couldn’t hold the intense gaze and stared resolutely at the stone tiles instead.

 

“Who are you?”

 

“Have you forgotten me already my love? You know who I am- you just have to work that brilliant mind of yours and figure it out.” The figure stared up at her hand on the barrier and gently played with the sparks of arcane on the tips of her fingers. “The violet hold really is the most secure prison out there- it was you yourself that teleported your way in here, begging for incarceration as the void wrestled for control within you- gave poor Khadgar the fright of his life.” The strange elf laughed softly before her expression became somber once more, “I wish you had told me sooner, my heart- I could have fixed this.”

 

_She cannot fix what is not broken, you have no need for this harbinger of death- you are perfect with us- we can make you whole again. You must destroy her; end her mockery of an existence for she does not have a place in this universe._

“What are they saying?” The elf challenged and Jaina dared to hold her gaze again.

 

“They want me to kill you.”

 

The figure laughed coldly. “Oh so nothing new? Have they not exhausted themselves crying out the same thing over and over? We get it.”

 

Jaina found her lips quirk in response and the elf softened her gaze and flattened her palm against the barrier and she realized only now that she’d stepped closer to the point that they could have touched were it not for the force field separating them.

 

“Do you want to kill me Jaina?”

 

The human winced as the voices flared up again, chanting a million _yeses_ until that was the only word she could hear in her mind.

 

“No.”

 

They hissed with indignation and Jaina felt something stir within her chest, something like triumph. It felt _good_ to deny them.

 

_Deny us and you will only know pain- only through us can you be saved._

“But I’m in pain _now.”_ Jaina pointed out aloud and in response the elf rested her head against the barrier, ignoring the crackles and sparks as the field resisted the dark magic within her.

 

“I know dalah’surfal, I know.”

 

She knew that language- knew those tender words that made the very fibres of her heart sing.

 

_They are lies, sweet lies. They will lure you to your destruction._

No. She’d heard those words many times before and every single one of them had meant something. Perhaps the voices were right- surely such tantalizing perfection could not be real.

 

_Now you see._

But… it hadn’t been perfect had it. They’d fought, words as sharp as knives tearing at one another, bruising kisses and cruel snarls but also softness, so much said within lingering gazes and the gentle touch of lips. The steadying pulse of dark magic calming her as she laid a burning cheek against the cool skin of her chest- the gentle trace of fingers over scars she knew better than her own. It was true, her life was full of pain, raw and fresh and never gone, but healing, always healing and she hadn’t been alone-

 

-She’d been loved. So loved, and she’d loved in return.

 

“Sylvanas” she whispered in a voice so utterly ruined and broken that is sounded more like a cry for help than any revelation.

 

“There you are.” Sylvanas breathed and for a blessed moment the voices fell silent and all she could see was the burning hope and dizzying love reflected back in that gaze she knew so well.

 

“Sylvanas I’m so sorry-” she reflexively went to touch her and hissed as the magic sparked painfully, causing her to withdraw her hand with a contrite expression on her face. “I… I find it so hard to remember.”

 

“I know- why do you think I come here every day?”

 

Jaina fought back a sob, tears pricked at her eyes and she clenched her jaw in both agony and anger at the injustice of it all.

 

“You should just leave me here, you don’t deserve this,” her voice was bitter and thick with emotion.

 

“My heart, you tell me this every time and I will always give you the same answer: do my vows mean nothing to you?”

 

Jaina allowed herself to openly cry, slumping against the cool tiles of the floor and burying her face in her hands, mouth twisted in a snarl of pain and sorrow. Every time Sylvanas asked Khadgar to drop the barrier and let her in and in response he always stated that he couldn’t. So she knelt down and simply rested her body against it, fighting the ache inside her that begged to hold her once more.

 

“It’s not fair.” Jaina mumbled brokenly and Sylvanas smiled sadly.

 

“No, it never is.”

 

“You need to go. I can see it in your eyes, you have left something vital to be here.”

 

“Just another battle for our survival- nothing exciting.”

 

The two shared a chuckle and Jaina weakly crawled over until she was as close as she could get. The shadowy tattoos on her arms writhed and she glared at them in disgust.

 

“How can you bear to look at me, I’m a monster.”

 

“No more of a monster than I am, and no less beautiful because of it.” Jaina closed her eyes at the answer, fighting back more tears. 

 

“You can’t save me can you, even if you killed me- my soul would end up in the void quicker than you could raise my body.” Jaina’s voice wasn’t a question, more a resigned statement of fact.

 

Sylvanas closed her eyes and grimly nodded.

 

“This is what you wanted to save us from wasn’t it- this is the fate of everyone while N’Zoth continues to exist.”

 

Again, Sylvanas dipped her head in acknowledgement.

 

“They whisper to me about you, you know- burner of the fifth torch, wielder of true darkness. They see you as a threat. Is it true, that you had to be the one to do it?”

 

“The only way to destroy an old god is to set it free.”

 

Jaina closed her eyes. “I knew it. I figured it out back then and by extension so did they- I had to isolate myself here before word spread across their realm. That’s why you never truly explained why you did it- it was too risky for people to find out.”

 

“You were always too smart for your own good.”

 

“Not smart enough, look at me now.” Jaina gestured to her corruption and Sylvanas mentally traced the shadowy purple tattoos that carved across the uncovered skin of her face, neck and arms in twisting and complex patterns- gazed into eyes that had once been grey and stormy like the sea but now glowed a deep purple, glimmering like far away constellations.

 

“I am.”

 

“Sylvanas.” Khadgar’s voice broke them from their moment. “We really need to go.”

 

The fallen elf looked torn but Jaina pressed her palm against the barrier, ignoring the sting as the magic lashed out in response to her touch and Sylvanas copied the action. The forcefield wobbled in protest and the voices at the back of her mind snarled both in desperation to escape and repulsion at its proximity to undeath.

 

“You must leave.”

 

“I know…” Sylvanas looked as though she wanted to say more, if only to delay the inevitable for just a moment longer.

 

“My brave martyr” Jaina whispered softly, “I am so, so proud of you. I am _honored_ to be your wife.”

 

Sylvanas didn’t need air but in that moment she felt as though she were choking.

 

Jaina watched her go, a sad but fond smile on her face. She wished she could follow, stand at partner’s side and hold her hand- even as her own people cursed her out and branded her heartless; she wished with every fiber of her being to be there for her as she shouldered the burden nobody else could- stand at her side as she faced impossible odds alone in a last ditch attempt to save them all. But she _couldn’t_ , all she could do was remain here- tormented by whispers and murmur prayers to any forgiving entity that listened to guide her beautiful, brave wife home.

 

Wherever that was.

 

_Your home is with us; we know you can break these barriers if you tried hard enough- we know you could find a way out of here. You warn the void of the Abomination’s true intentions and you will be rewarded, saved from the eternal torment that awaits you._

“No.” Jaina growled, “You tell me this because you’re scared- the dead cannot be corrupted and that terrifies you- you won’t be able to stop her.”

 

_Your faith is misplaced, she is but one and we are many._

“Perhaps, but you do not know my wife. She will stop at nothing to save us.”

 

_To save me._


	2. War Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a happy ending follow up for those that think these two deserve more xD 
> 
> With thanks to @brazenedMinstrel for reading through this and slaying all my stupidly long sentences ;)

Jaina had no idea how long she’d been here- had it been days, decades, centuries? Or perhaps it was mere seconds that had stretched into eternity. 

 

Time was a construct she now found hard to understand. She’d been able to get a sense of days passing when she’d had frequent visitation, though she couldn’t remember who it had been. She’d remembered chanting their name over and over in her head in a bid to keep such recollections but her traitorous mind yet again betrayed that promise. It had been important, that was all she knew. The void was endless, ancient and uncaring of measuring such a thing and so time slowly began to lose its meaning.

 

The halls were dark. There was no need to for light when all that resided here were the worst atrocities known to Azeroth- beings that cared little for such comforts. Khadgar had left a lamp to the left of her cell, a little thing that spun and flickered like fireflies on a humid summer night, but it had long since died. She felt weak, even the whispers seemed to understand this and only murmured amongst themselves- their language and voices indistinguishable by her exhausted brain. Nobody had been here for a while; the lack of food and water made her dizzy and unable to think or do much other than lay on the ground and ponder how much time had passed- if time even existed anymore.

 

For reasons unknown to her the whispers grew frantic, building to a crescendo until all that filled her mind were screams. She whimpered against the tiles she lay on and frantically clutched at her head- feeling as though her very skull was imploding. White hot flashes behind eyelids, the blood curdling bellow of something so monstrous her very soul shied away from it. Then… silence, blessed silence, save for the frantic thump of her heart and the roar of blood in her ears. Shaky breaths misted against the cool stone and in what seemed like the first time in forever, Jaina closed her eyes and slept.

 

A commotion of light and sounds flooded her senses, Jaina flinched and blinked against the glare of a torch. A gasp of relief, the crackle of static and hiss of something being shut off. Hands grasped at her legs and shoulders and she flinched violently, weakly struggling against their hold; her body, used to months of isolation, mistaking the sensation of touch for pain.

 

“She’s still alive.” A male voice breathed and she felt herself being lifted into the air, strong arms cradling her against a chest, arms that were too warm, the thump of another heartbeat alarmed her though she wasn’t quite sure why. She pushed against it only for the voice to shush her, tightening their hold and murmuring softly. “It’s okay Jaina, I’ve got you, everything is going to be okay.”

 

* * *

 

 “Be still.” A voice scolded and Jaina made an irritated noise and tried to settle, despite the tension rolling off her in waves.

 

Gentle fingers swept the braid over her shoulder and she tried not to shiver as they traced over the strange patterns of her tattoos, cool magic emanating from fingertips that seemed to soothe the shadows that flickered under her skin. The sultry voice with that ethereal echo, the gentle way in which she was being handled, it was so familiar that she clenched her jaw and stiffened her shoulders.

 

“I said _be still_ \- I can’t let you leave until this is over so either settle down or I’ll knock you unconscious so that I may continue to work in peace.” Slender fingers gripped her shoulder and shook it in a playful manner.

 

“I’m sorry Alleria, it’s just…” Jaina huffed once in frustration and then tried to regulate her breathing.

 

“I know, you’ll be there soon, I promise.”

 

There. Ogrimmar. Where her currently very injured wife was being attended to.

 

It had been the first place she’d gone to when her thoughts and memories began to trickle back. Alive. Sylvanas was still alive. Technicalities aside of course- but alive in the sense that was important.

 

She was hurt, beyond hurt, a body so broken that she couldn’t even hold a form as her necromancers and val’kyr gathered around and slowly began the painstaking process of putting her back together. What Jaina knew to be her wife was nothing more than writhing smoke and darkness when she'd last set eyes on her, the only resemblance of sentience found in the red glowing eyes that followed her every move. Dark wisps of tendrils reached in her direction but Jaina shook her head and backed away, terrified the remnants of void that still resided within might somehow corrupt or slow the restoration. Instead she’d held that fiery gaze and kissed her fingertips once before tapping them against her chest, where her heart beat, in a gesture she hoped Sylvanas translated as love. Satisfied that she’d done all she could, she followed a disgruntled Nathanos out, leaving the Banshee and her healers alone to their work.

 

The next few days she’d thrown herself into the skirmishes that were still yet to die out, creatures of the void remained- wandering without sense or direction but still dangerous in themselves and naga, the ones that hadn’t yet fled below the waves, hell-bent on revenge. The less glamorous side of war: the methodical extermination without pause or remorse.

 

It was on the battlefield that Alleria found her- eyes brighter and clearer than Jaina had ever seen and while they had never been friends before- the haunted look they shared spoke a thousand words.

 

“The void will never truly leave you” The eldest Windrunner broke her out her thoughts, grounding her to the present as the elf traced the markings on her forearm with a completive look on her face. “It is as constant as The Light itself but without N’Zoth’s influence in Azeroth it will now be a much more benign force within your life. I have enchanted the brands the corruption has left on your skin to calm the shadows within you, but you must visit me if the whispers ever become anything more than a minor buzz at the back of your mind.”

 

Jaina made a noise of agreement and stared at the horizon, enjoying the gentle warmth of the sun on the bare skin of her back and the glittering waves in the far distance. She just wished Sylvanas were here, Alleria only served as a painful reminder of whom she was missing so desperately.

 

Then again, considering she was standing topless while her wife's estranged sister tenderly traced runes along the numerous tattoos across her shoulder blades, this might not be the most welcome of sights. She almost smiled at that thought and then sighed forlornly.

 

“They’re calling her a war hero amongst the Horde you know,” Alleria muttered, not looking up from her work, as though knowing exactly where Jaina’s contemplations had headed.

 

“She is… in a way.” Jaina sighed, “She really did end up being the one to save us.”

 

She’d heard the proud and dramatic tellings the soldiers had whispered around the campfires while she’d been out in the field- how the Banshee Queen had led the finest members of her forsaken and even a few Alliance death knight champions in a final stand against N’Zoth himself; how she’d sacrificed herself, corrupting him from the inside out with the help of a magic blade. She scoffed, it sounded so romantic in hindsight but if the screams in her head were anything to go by it had been brutal and merciless carnage… and so much death.

 

She supposed in time she’d hear the real version from Sylvanas herself and she knew her wife wouldn’t lie to her, not this time-not anymore.

 

“What do you think?” Jaina, against her better judgment, found herself asking and Alleria regarded her warily.

 

“While I will be forever grateful for what she’s done for me, for all of us- whether it be intentional or not- I don’t know if I can ever forgive her for Teldrassil. I know there was no other way but… I don’t know if I could ever truly understand someone who would willingly make that sacrifice.”

 

Jaina nodded; she understood, to an extent, but she was aware that her feelings were compromised.

 

“It doesn’t mean that I don’t want to see her again… if she were to allow it.” Alleria folded her ears back in embarrassment and Jaina tilted her head knowing the unspoken question the eldest Windrunner was asking of her.

 

“Maybe in time- when she’s healed and moved on, I’ll bring it up.”

 

“Thank you.” Alleria returned to her work, continuing to methodically work through her task while Jaina watched the sun slowly arc overhead.

 

* * *

 

 

The sun had almost dipped below the horizon by the time Jaina reached the familiar dusty hills of the Horde capital- it gave everything a burnt orange tinge that felt surreal and dreamlike. Funny how a city that once held such hatred in her heart now felt like home.

 

“You are finally here, good, my Queen grows impatient.” Nathanos strode up beside her and Jaina inclined her head, not missing the haunted look in his eyes. He must have been there at the final battle and she wondered what he’d seen. Despite that, he appeared relaxed and unhurried which filled Jaina with relief, knowing that Sylvanas was likely doing okay if this was how he was carrying himself. Another strange thing today- Nathonos bringing her comfort.

 

He lead the way, twisting through halls and rooms until they were back in the same place she’d last seen Sylvanas in and Jaina felt all her breath rush out of her at once.

 

She was in a much more corporeal form now, at least enough that she was fully clothed and recognizable even if smoke still bled from numerous gashes in her skin and she swayed though struggling to stand. Jaina opened her mouth to say something but closed it as Sylvanas turned to look in her direction. Jaina was nervous all of a sudden. She couldn’t remember much of her time in the hold but she’d recalled the countless times her wife had been there, talking to her even in the final days when she’d curled up on the floor and babbled in a language even she didn’t understand. She wondered just how much those events had hurt her, even if it had been unintentional on Jaina’s part.

 

The mage deliberated if she should even approach.

 

Thankfully Sylvanas decided that for her when she felt the twist of tendrils curl around her wrists and waist and roughly tug her forward as the Banshee swatted away the arms of her necromancers and staggered in her direction. She briefly heard Nathanos’s protests for her not to be walking and Jaina snapped out of her stupor, rushing to meet Sylvanas the rest of the way and throwing her arms around her wife’s waist. Another pair of arms wrapped snuggly around her shoulders in a grip so tight it would have hurt had she not been so elated in that moment.

 

Jaina pulled back to cup her face and she stared into eyes that burned with tears that couldn’t be shed- so Jaina did the crying for both of them. Lips met trembling lips and Jaina could taste the cloying smoke that still bled from her still not quite complete form. It chilled her nerves and numbed her skin, the scent that went with it was sharp and sterile but she couldn't find it in her to care. Sylvanas was alive, she was here, and safe in her arms and nothing in that moment could have made her even consider letting go.

 

She pushed her face into the soft skin of her neck and pressed a series of kisses from jaw to collarbone, reveling at the feeling of familiar cool skin against her cheek. Eventually she pulled back to rest her forehead against her wife’s and held her for a few moments more. Sylvanas openly shuddered against her and hands scrambled at her body as though desperate to touch everything but unsure of what to grab first before they finally settled around her waist to pull her impossibly closer.

 

“I was so afraid.” Jaina eventually spoke, thumbs stroking against a gaunt cheekbone, furiously blinking at tears so she could see her face more clearly.

 

“Me too” a voice answered. It was rough and disjointed and seemed to echo around them rather than come from the lips she’d just kissed but it was the most beautiful sound Jaina had ever heard.

 

She wasn’t sure how long the two held one another, the cold energy that thrummed within the body she was now wrapped around brought her more comfort than any heartbeat ever could and Jaina was powerless to do anything else but drink in the blissful feeling. Sylvanas seemed to be doing the same; eyes scanned her face in an almost desperate manner before Jaina felt the brush of cool lips against the crook of her neck as the banshee buried her face into it. Cold puffs of air tickled her skin as Sylvanas breathed in deeply as though taking in her scent and in response Jaina gently scratched her fingers at the back of her scalp and lovingly stroked her hair, letting the wispy strands fall through her fingers before pressing her lips to the crown of her head and letting them linger there.

 

“Your necromancers grow restless.” Even Nathanos seemed remorseful at breaking up such a tender moment but he was right, Sylvanas was by no means in a fit state to keep this up for much longer and Jaina reluctantly pulled back. Sylvanas made to step with her to keep up the contact but Jaina gently placed a hand on her chest, trying not to wince as her fingers caught the rough edges of skin that lined wounds so deep she could see muscle and bone.

 

“No, you must allow yourself to be healed.”

 

Sylvanas clenched her jaw but reluctantly nodded and with a pained expression on her face dropped her hands from Jaina’s waist and allowed herself to be tended to. The human felt the loss in just as sharp clarity and put on a brave smile as she stepped away- giving the healers their room to work.

 

“Where will you go?” Sylvanas asked, voice strained as she struggled to work with vocal chords that hadn’t fully formed yet.

 

“I’ll stay in Ogrimmar, I won’t be far I promise.” The elf looked relieved and nodded but her eyes didn’t leave the doorway in which the human had retreated through.

 

Jaina wandered the city, feet dragging through the red dirt and a constriction in her throat and chest that felt as though she were drowning. The citizens of Ogrimmar avoided her as if suspecting she was about to explode into a writhing mass of shadowy tendrils at any moment and she didn’t blame them. Her heart went out to Alleria who’d been the first one to deal with it- and she’d been alone too, at least Jaina had her advice and guidance to deal with her new… condition. The void within her felt faint but ever present and she’d sensed its fear when Sylvanas was close. But it was easy now, to distinguish its reactions from her own. If anything the whispers, if she cared to listen, were confused and directionless almost as if they were waiting in trepidation for her to command them- perhaps she could work it out with Alleria- something to chew on later for sure.

 

But not now, now she needed to keep busy and it was answered in the form of a trail of tired looking trolls who passed out shovels to anyone who cared to volunteer to help in digging graves for the dead. While most deceased members of the Horde were burned at a pyre, a few, especially those who had a deep connection to the earthen elements, wished to be put in the ground. So it was in the fading light that Jaina, with the help of surprisingly friendly orc who couldn’t have been much older than Anduin and already wore his fresh battle scars with pride, put a shovel in the ground and began to dig. She worked long into the night until the oil from the torches ran out, pausing only to sleep in the dirt for a few hours and rising with the first rays of dawn that crept over the horizon. The sun rose overhead and she continued to dig, clothes long since discarded until she was dressed in nothing but an undershirt and breeches. The Horde had little care for indecency and she reveled in that fact, enjoying the simplicity of manual labor and the warm breeze on bare skin. She didn’t know if it was an effect from the corruption or Alleria’s enchantments but she now felt a growing itch to let her skin breathe.

 

The shadows grew longer and Jaina watched in wonder as the sun set, casting the land in a warm orange glow. More families gathered around each freshly dug grave and somberly lowered the fallen into it. Jaina watched from afar, muttering a small incantation and sending a flickering flare of light into the air that cast a shimmering golden glow on the hunched figures below, hoping it at least provided a small comfort in the dead of night. She made no attempt to join them, but several members nodded in her direction as though grateful for her efforts.

 

Another night she slept in the dirt and stared up at the stars, wondering if there were other worlds out there and if they too suffered from the same cruel fate this one nearly had and if they too had someone such as her wife, willing to risk it all. The next morning greeted her with dried sweat and dust clinging to her skin so she sought out the cool spray of the waterfall in the Valley of Wisdom. She had quarters to retreat to if she so wished but after months spent locked up inside the cold and empty halls of the hold she felt almost painfully claustrophobic to be anywhere else, not withstanding the fact that without Sylvanas there, it wouldn’t feel right for her to spend any time up there alone.

 

Her unlikely orc friend seemed to have the same idea and unashamed, the two of them stepped under the spray of cool water, enjoying the relief of shade within the oasis and the wet mud beneath her bare toes. He gave her a tusked grin and squirted some water her way between two large fists, laughing unabashedly at her squeak of protest. As she shot him a mock glare in return for his antics she wondered why his eyes widened in horror as he quickly stepped away to a respectable distance, hastily bowing and sprinting away. She cocked her head in confusion at the panicked and strange behavior and startled as arms wound their way around her waist and a cool body pressed against her damp back.

 

“So this is what my wife does when I’m not around, ignites fires within the hearts of my poor adolescent soldiers.” Jaina spun around and her face nearly hurt from the grin that lit up at her face at the sight before her.

 

“Sylvanas!” The elf chuckled and caught the mage as she practically launched herself into older woman’s arms. Jaina kissed her deeply before pulling back and clasping her face tenderly between her palms. “You’re fully healed?”

 

“Enough that I’m in one shape.” Sylvanas shrugged nonchalantly but a smile threatened to tease her lips before she lost her composure and hid her grin in her wife’s hair. “You do realize we have a perfectly good shower up in our chambers, you know, one with hot water and soap.” Jaina laughed in response to the disgruntled tone, her chest light and her mood carefree.

 

“Yes but this is outside, I’ve been inside for so long I’ve needed this- the sky, the dirt, the fresh air..” Jaina spread her hands out, enjoying the way the water ran off them with a flurry of sparkling droplets. Sylvanas caught them and kissed the moisture from her fingertips and Jaina stepped closer, watching in fascination as her usually brooding and stoic elf stepped with her under the spray and tilted her face upwards, curling her arms around the dizzying warmth that was her human wife and simply enjoying the moment.

 

“So, are we fleeing to the forest then to live like a couple of feral druids at one with nature?” Sylvanas teased, claiming her lips with a soft kiss as Jaina made an amused sound.

 

Jaina kissed her again, lips wet with the metallic taste of natural water, nostrils filled with the scent of damp mud and the subtle fragrance of the forest that always seemed to cling to her wife’s skin, the same cool skin that pressed against hers in blissful relief after a morning spent under the sweltering heat of the sun. Tongue teased tongue and Jaina couldn’t help the soft moan at the back of her throat. It was embarrassing really but touch starved as she was, her body couldn't help but respond so eagerly. She needn't have worried for the sound seemed to awake something within Sylvanas and the human gasped as cool lips broke away only to attach to her neck, sucking at her pulse point and nipping at the skin with a tease of fang that drove her senses crazy.

 

“Gods I have missed you,” Sylvanas’s eyes were wild and Jaina felt a lump form in her throat. She knew her wife meant more than just the moments she’d been quarantined while she healed. She didn’t know how long she’d been fighting her corruption but from that hopeful yet wary look in her wife's eyes, as though she were afraid to blink and dispel the illusion, she supposed it had been more than long enough. 

 

“I’ve missed you too.”

 

They had a lot to talk about still, so much to hear and say but in that moment Jaina let herself be held, knowing there would be plenty of time to talk, plenty of time to work through what issues were left and what trials were still ahead of them. An old god could never truly die no more than the void could cease to exist and it was still a mystery as to what all this could mean- but in that moment all Jaina wanted to do was to properly reunite with her wife in the only way she knew how.

 

She knew that her life would always harbor pain, in one form or another, but as her wife reverently trailed fingers across the sensitive skin of her collar bone and kissed along each symbol and twisting pattern of her void branded marks, Jaina couldn’t find it within her to feel self conscious about any of it. Nothing mattered when Sylvanas, _her_ Sylvanas was hovering over her like this, a desperate fire in her eyes and hands gripping at what exposed flesh she could reach. Savior of Azeroth, War Hero, Banshee Queen, Warchief of the Horde, what ever name they called her- Jaina would know her simply as Sylvanas Windrunner, her wife, and as the elf in question regarded her as some sort of prize, Jaina wasn’t about to deny her in claiming it.


End file.
